


Your Touch Keeps Me

by redstaronmyshoulder (CaptainAmelia22)



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Teaching, desert sex, mentions of past rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-13
Updated: 2015-07-13
Packaged: 2018-04-09 04:53:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4334612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainAmelia22/pseuds/redstaronmyshoulder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The War Boy knows nothing of women.  </p><p>“Women weren’t meant for the likes of me,” he says suddenly, his voice small in the vast openness of the desert they lie in and her heart stutters in her chest when his eyes once more meet hers, their depths as haunted as she feels and she loves him then.  </p><p>Loves this broken boy with the strange mind and brash personality.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Touch Keeps Me

The War Boy knows nothing of women.  

His hands are hard on her hips as he flips her over on their blanket in the sand, pressing her breasts down into the fading day’s warmth.  

For a brief moment she forgets who it is holding her.  

For a brief moment it’s Joe gripping her tight enough to bruise, pulling her ass up and back into his pelvis, cock pressing at her between their clothes, hot and hard and so very not welcome.

For a brief moment-

It’s not Nux holding her down.

It’s the man who’s raped her since she was ten years old and still wide-eyed enough to believe men were supposed to keep their women folk safe.

Not break them, just for the sake of it.

“Fucker!”

She kicks him in the balls, her dead-man’s boots slamming painfully into his groin and he gasps as the air knocks forcefully from his lungs. His hands leave her hips as he sprawls to the blanket, huddled protectively around his aching testicles and she scrambles backwards, nearly tripping in her raggedy linens and too-big boots.  

Green eyes, wild and haunted and so very terrified, stare blankly down at the pale boy and her breasts heave as she tries to keep the panic at bay.

All she can see-all she can hear-is the bastard who hurt her and her sisters every night.  

All she can  _feel_  is his massive, cancer-ridden, body plunging in and out of hers, not caring for her pain or discomfort.

All she can see..

Are black eyes, welling with tears and bone-white cheeks tinged pink with shame, glowing in the brittle moonlight.  

Black eyes.

Not grey.

Black and so full of love.

Not Joe.

Not…

“Nux,” she whispers and her voice breaks on his name, even as her own tears begin to fall across her cheeks.  “I’m-I’m sorry.”

She reaches for him, then, fingers seeking his in the darkness and he gasps her name the minute their holds lock.

“I hurt you.  I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry Capable,” he says, eyes wild with shame as he levers himself up onto his knees so very slowly, ever so careful not to scare her and she smiles despite herself.

Despite the strange rushing in her ears and the way her body trembles with the little after-shocks of terrifying memory.  

“Didn’t scare me,” she grumbles, ducking her head into his palms, hiding the blush heating her cheeks.  “You just need to learn a few things War Boy.”  

He strokes her hair back from her cheek, tucking the snarls and braids behind her ear and he presses his forehead to hers, grinning as she raises her gaze back to his.  

“I never did this with a milk bag-,” he hesitates at the flash of anger and disgust in her dark green eyes and tries again, his fingers locking tight in her hair as she tries to pull away.  “I mean, a  _woman_ ,” he continues doggedly on and his slender body yearns towards hers, flat muscles of his chest pressing into her curves and she forgives him.

Forgives him for being as naive as she had been, before the monsters bit.

Forgives him for the different injustices he’d faced that had made him what he is now.

She cups his cheek and presses a kiss to his lips, still stained with silver and the strange war paint the War Boys covered themselves in day-in and day-out. 

“You’ve never fucked before?” she asks and he shakes his head with a sigh, fingers rising to toy with one of her braids.  

“Not with a woman,” he says, eyes drifting past hers to gaze at the distant camp’s fires.  He can just make out the blood bag’s silhouette as he paces, waiting for the Imperator’s return.  

He can see the other Wives, scattered amongst the Many Mothers.  

Such a strange group…

“Nux.”

Capable grips his chin and shakes him slightly, brow furrowing when his gaze doesn’t return immediately to hers.  This War Boy…

No wonder the Imperator’s Fool had been strapped to his V8, strapped to  _him._

_Slightly off the rocker, this one…_

_“_ Women weren’t meant for the likes of me,” he says suddenly, his voice small in the vast openness of the desert they lie in and her heart stutters in her chest when his eyes once more meet hers, their depths as haunted as she feels and she loves him then.  Loves this broken boy with the strange mind and brash personality.  Nux doesn’t stop playing with her hair, absently trying to ease some of the tangles free and she realizes she likes this.  

Likes being touched so carefully.

So lovingly.

“I was nothing. I was mediocre.  And women- _you-_ were only meant for those worthy of Valhalla,” he whispers, breaking her heart once more and she bites her lips, telling herself that she can’t fix this.

She can’t fix  _them._

_Immorten Joe’s broken toys._

His fingers stroke across her cheek, down her neck, to finally press gently against the swell of her breast and she shivers at his touch but he doesn’t let her speak.  

Simply rests his hands on his thighs and asks, “Show me what to do.”  

And in that moment…

Her heart surges back to life and her lips curl in a smile so beautiful, it puts the stars and the moon above them to shame.  

“Oh War Boy,” she murmurs, leaning forward on her knees to press a soft, fleeting kiss to his stained lips.  “You’re so strange.”

He blinks owlishly at her for a moment, watching as she begins unwinding the linens slowly from her body, and he doesn’t say a word.

She chuckles at that, at the way his gaze turns hungrier and hungrier as her slender body reveals itself to the warm desert air and when her breasts ease free and the only cloth remaining is that on her hips, she lies down beside him.

Her offering is plain to see but she doesn’t let him touch her.

Not yet.

“You next,” she says, and her eyes are sparkling now, green gems in her freckled face and he smiles down at her, for the moment caught in her humor.

It doesn’t take him long to remove his clothes and she laughs at his fumbling fingers and violent curses when his thumb gets caught in the hooks of his boots.  

Soon enough though, he’s naked tattooed and scarred body stretched out alongside hers and she hesitates for just a moment, wondering if this is the right thing to do.

The right sort of torment.

A War Boy and a Wife.

It doesn’t seem so dirty to think about, here in the open, with Furiosa and her Fool watching over them.

She’s free, for the first time since she was barely a child.

Anything is possible.

“Touch me,” she whispers, eyes turning to heat as she reaches for his hand and he hesitates before letting her take it. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he whispers back, eyes wide as he watches the thin linen covering her hips ruffle in the soft breeze washing over them.  It does little to hide what’s beneath.  To hide the faint triangle of dark curls covering her mound and she smiles as she watches him watching her.

“You’re not going to hurt me,” she says, and she’s pulling his hand towards her now, directing his gaze to their fingers.  “Just go slowly for now, War Boy.” 

She places his hand on her left breast and he swallows forcefully at the sight of her delicate swell filling his palm, tender peak tightening under the joint forces of his touch and the cooling breeze.  

“Gods,” he breathes, fingers absently toying with the rosy nipple and she shivers at the sensation of his warm, callused touch toying with her, completely unknowing to the sensations he causes her. “So shiny.  So…chrome.”

The old saying.

It washes over her as it spills from his lips but for the first time in too many years it doesn’t awaken dread or disgust in her.

Coming from Nux…

It’s what it’s meant to be.

A declaration of love.  

She reaches for his hand once more, lips curling in a different sort of smile now, and his eyes widen as she tugs the last knot on her linen wrap free, baring her hips to his gaze and to the desert.

“Touch me, War Boy,” she whispers, her voice husky now with something other than humor.  

Her legs spread for his touch, for his slender fingers far stronger than first-appearances seem, and his gasp is a thing of beauty.

 _This,_ she thinks as he begins to carefully explore her body and her legs fall wider for his fingers, his mouth,  _him._  

_This is what love is supposed to be._

She says his name then, as his tongue begins to taste her, dark eyes crinkling in pleasure as he watches her writhe for him. 

She says his name.

And for the first time since he held her that first night…

It doesn’t feel like a curse.  

**

Her Fool glances over his shoulder at the girl’s voice, brow crinkling in concern at the faint cry and she smiles despite herself.

Despite the sand and dirt and tears clinging to her cheeks.

Despite the hollow emptiness in her chest where hope had once lodged.

“She’s fine, Fool,” she rasps, the first words she’s spoken since…

Well.  

He grunts and turns back around, chin once more resting on his folded forearms.  He watches her though, from the corner of his eye, but waits patiently for her to speak.

She’s not sure if she wants to say anything to him. 

“If the War Boy hurts her, I’ll help you kill him.”  

She glances at him, eyes widening as she catches sight of white teeth flashing in a wolfish grin in her direction but they vanish as quickly as they come and once more they fall into a comfortable silence so bizarre for their particular situation.  

The soft sounds of Nux and Capable learning each other trickle through the night air, mingling with the other typical night desert sounds and she sighs, huddling deeper into herself.  

That gaping hole in her chest…

It aches.

It yearns.

For something other than vast, empty desert.

For something other than…

Death.  

His hip pressing against hers does nothing to snap her out of her fugue.  She doesn’t look away from the wheeling stars above when he drapes a blanket around her shoulders, heavily muscled arms brushing her chilled skin.  She doesn’t blink when he pulls her into his side, arm wrapping tightly around her waist, pinning her in place.

His humming though, deep voice vibrating under her ear as he grumbles his way through the tinker box song, brings her back to reality a little bit.  

“Fool,” she begins to protest his touch but he simply holds her tighter and rests his chin on the top of her head, massive body bending around hers protectively.

“Shh,” he rasps, rough voice far more soothing than it should be.  “Easy, Imperator.  Easy.”

And she eases into his hold, despite herself.

Despite  _everything._

And she realizes as he keeps humming and his wide, strong hands rub some of the aching emptiness in her chest away, that  _this._

 _This_  is what love is supposed to be.

And she sighs, letting her eyes close in relief.


End file.
